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Thursday, October 06, 2005

Punk Rock Hair

A couple of months ago before Jiro left our daycare goddess' care, I asked her to buzz his head. He was on the verge of a mullet and needed a new look. Well, his hair was kind of thin and didn't take well to the clippers. He was left with only peach fuzz and looked like the world's largest infant.

Warren, who is anti-haircut in general, has had to deal with many stealth haircuts on my part (and on Satchel's head) over the past few years. I think he decided to teach me a lesson.

"Let's dye his hair blonde, so when it grows back out the tips will be blonde," he suggested. "You know, like punk rock hair."

Punk rock hair.

"Um, okay," I said, never believing he would actually dye our one-year-old's hair.

As we were getting ready to go to the trails one morning Warren ran into the kitchen with a bottle of peroxide and rubbed it all over Jiro's head. Since I had tried this maneuver in high school a few times without much luck, I didn't expect to see any results.

However, by the next day, Jiro was completely blonde. "Who is this baby?" I kept asking myself. I put him in his Ramones t-shirt and tried to adjust to his new look. "I'm sure this won't be the first time he'll come home looking crazy," I told myself.

As Jiro's hair continues to grow, it seems like it is getting more and more blonde. It is bizarre. (And no, I don't think Warren is slathering peroxide on while I'm not looking.) At least once a week, if not more often, I have someone comment, "Wow! Look at that blonde hair!" in amazement. And then I inevitably go into the whole story. (Most people think that putting peroxide on a toddler's head is not a sign of good parenting, by the way.)

I've gotten pretty used to the way he looks, and I don't think he could get anymore adorable. But sometimes I wonder what he would look like if I would have just left well enough alone.